When I was a child, I didn't even know what books were, but as I grew older, I became fascinated by books. The first book I read was of course Andersen's fairy tales. Of this book
The origin is vague in my memory, as if I had found it at home. At first, I was attracted by its beautiful cover and illustrations, but when I opened it, the story inside attracted me like a magnet. Since then, there has been such a memory in my mind: a little girl of six or seven years old, reading alone in her room on a spring afternoon, sat quietly for an afternoon until the sunset wiped away the last beautiful light.
When I grow up, books are still an indispensable part of my life. There is no end to learning, and I sit on the boat and enjoy it slowly. The book is the sea, and I am a happy little fish, swimming freely in the sea of books; The book is the sky, and I am a happy bird, soaring in the sky. From The Journey to the West to A Dream of Red Mansions, from The Diary of a Teenage Girl to Naughty Ma Xiaotiao, from Education of Love to If I Have Three Days of Light, from Practical Digest to Children's Literature ... I read it with relish. It is with the help of books that my monotonous life suddenly becomes colorful.
I suck and enjoy books. She makes me intoxicated and addicted like wine. I was fascinated by her indescribable charm. I have no strength to resist the temptation of books, and I have no courage to resist ink fragrance.